


World Enough and Time

by Shinybug



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Beach Sex, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-09 22:32:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20124910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinybug/pseuds/Shinybug
Summary: In which Silver and Flint find their courage in a bottle of rum, and the crew has a much needed party on the beach.





	World Enough and Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is purely romantic self indulgence, which doesn’t fit into canon or timeline, though believe me I tried. They just never got a day off, was the problem. But I thought I’d give these poor bastards a bit of a party, which the show denied us. It’s kind of season 2-ish, sort of. Like post-mutiny and everyone still has all their legs. Just...roll with it, I guess?
> 
> I was deeply inspired by Blanco White's The Lily and Andrew Marvell's To His Coy Mistress.

~*~

Silver felt that he would always marvel at the capacity of pirates to kill violently and indiscriminately, and then come together for some truly exhilarating music and dancing when the day was done. 

He supposed that the two states of being, joy and bloodlust, might be two sides of the same coin really. Extremes of emotion, allowed to burst forth with abandon, in a way that he'd never seen anywhere else in his travels. 

He sat on a little hillock just above the tideline in the sand, nursing a bottle of rum and soaking up the knowledge that nothing was being asked of him at the moment, and he needed no mask to wear. No one was watching him, no one cared. Likely no one even noticed he wasn't down on the beach. He was currently neither hated nor loved, so he was below the attention of anyone who crewed the Walrus. That was how he preferred it; to be a shadow character was the best way to manipulate the narrative of his own life. He disliked being in the public view as much as he had been recently, so this reprieve was much appreciated. 

Silver took a deep breath and let it out slowly, burrowing his bare feet in the cold sand. It was nearly full dark, with just a touch of red on the flat horizon line, and stars coming out in the sky above. He could stay here all night, he thought to himself, and he just might do that. 

Another time he'd have joined the crew on the beach, danced to the music and kissed a pretty girl just for the novelty of it. Tonight, he was content to watch. 

He wasn't sure what made him turn his head to the left; no discernable sound or movement gave away the fact that he was being watched in turn, but he sensed it and looked. He was startled to see Flint’s outline a short distance away, just a bit higher up the hill than he was, tucked into the shadows of the scrub brush. 

For a long moment they stared at each other, then without allowing himself to overthink it Silver rose into a crouch and made his way to Flint’s side. 

"Captain," he said with a nod, inviting himself to sit next to Flint despite the vaguely incredulous expression on Flint’s face. 

"Thief," Flint replied in turn. 

"Well now, surely I've earned myself a better title than that." Silver flashed him a cheeky grin to mask the slight sting he felt. 

"Shit cook? Duplicitous bugger?" 

Silver couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. "Was that a joke? Did you actually make a joke just now?" 

Flint’s inscrutable smirk said, 'keep wondering,' as surely as his words had after Silver had revealed the last of the Urca's schedule. 

Silver shrugged a little. "I was thinking more along the lines of 'loyal companion,' or perhaps even 'friend.'" 

Now it was Flint’s turn to laugh. "How much of that rum have you had?" 

Silver was momentarily transfixed by the sound of Flint laughing, when up to now he'd only ever seen him smirk in jaded amusement. "Catch up with me then, your opinion of me might improve," he finally answered, handing the bottle to Flint. 

Flint stared at Silver in silence and then accepted the bottle. They sat together without speaking for some time, sharing the bottle and watching the beach. The men had brought their drums and fiddles and one battered hurdy-gurdy, and were stirring up a merry tune around the bonfires. Behind them the sea rushed in a slower counterpoint rhythm. 

Silver leaned back on his elbows and tipped his head up to the night sky, which glittered like treasure above them. Flint set the empty bottle down between them and rested his arm across his updrawn knee. He was more at ease than Silver had ever seen him, not happy by any stretch, but content in the moment, it seemed. 

"You never did tell me what you plan to do with your share of the treasure," Silver said as he examined the dregs of the rum bottle and cast it aside sadly. 

"You're right, I didn't."

Undeterred, Silver pressed on, because he'd never met a secret he hadn’t wanted to uncover. "So tell me, Captain, what will you buy with your newly acquired riches?" 

Flint was silent long enough for Silver to assume he wouldn't answer, and was all set to needle Flint some more, when Flint said simply, "Freedom." 

Silver blinked. "Freedom. That was my answer. And I can't picture you settling down somewhere far away from the sea." 

Flint's expression turned oddly rueful. "The difference between our answers is that I'll be buying freedom for all these men, all these pirates, not gaining my own freedom from them." 

"Much as I appreciate that noble sentiment," Silver said slowly, while accepting that his mind was slightly fuzzy with drink, "I don't believe that even with the whole treasure you could afford to pardon every pirate who sails the sea." 

"You misunderstand me. I won't be paying for pardons, I'll be paying for the war that grants their freedom." 

Silver looked at the men down on the beach. Most were drinking and laughing, and the whores who had joined them were leading a joyfully drunken rigadoon to the beat of the drums. Charlotte was pulling Logan into the ring of dancers around the bonfire, her hair flying around her head like a halo as Logan laughed. Muldoon and Dooley were already dancing, and even Joji was tapping his foot in time with the drums. Sparks swirled on uplifted currents of air, dazzling in the night. 

Beyond them the torch lights of Nassau glowed in the near distance. From here it was beautiful, in a way that was often hard to see when one was inside it. Everywhere Silver looked he saw simple unalloyed pleasure. 

"Captain…this is what freedom looks like, for these men. They are already free." Silver glanced back at Flint to see an inexplicable sadness in his eyes, which also reflected the red of the bonfires. It was an odd duality, as though Flint was a tormented demon of some kind. 

"I wish I could see the world the way you do, even as jaded as I know you to be, Silver." Flint sounded soft, which must have been due to the rum, though he wasn't slurring his words at all. 

"At best I like to think I'm a pragmatist," Silver countered. "I look around myself and I see a hard life on the account, but I also see a freedom from rules which appeals to most of these men. It may not lead to a particularly long life, but when has life ever offered any guarantees?" 

"But you dream of a future elsewhere. You want to leave the sea behind." Flint’s eyes were unwavering on Silver’s face, gentle and unnerving. 

Silver grinned in a way he meant to be sharp like a knife but came out somewhat more like hazy rum-soaked fondness. "I am not a pirate. I'm a sailor on the crew of a madman, trying to stay alive long enough to plant both feet on the soil again and never look back." 

"Your feet are on the soil now," Flint pointed out, looking at Silver’s feet half hidden by sand. 

"Alas, I am shackled by the chains of poverty, and must stay at the mad captain's side until my circumstances change." 

"You're an opportunistic bastard, I'm certain you could find your way around that." 

"Indeed," Silver replied, watching the way the firelight played over Flint's hair, "but perhaps I don't mind the mad captain as much as I mind the sea." 

"Perhaps I don't mind the opportunistic bastard as much as I mind his lies," Flint countered, smirking. 

"Well then," said Silver, which didn't really make any sense but neither did the way Flint was still looking at him. Silver was having some very dangerous thoughts about the man seated so extremely close to him. He seemed inappropriately close, never mind the fact that it was Silver who had sat down last, but then Flint hadn't exactly shifted away, had he? 

It was very possible that Silver had indulged in a bit too much of that bottle, because when sober he never would have indulged the desire to reach out and discover if Flint's beard was actually as warm as the firelight that glinted off of it. And surely Flint would never in reality have lifted a slow and hesitant hand to touch Silver’s cheekbone like it was made of fine china, to which Silver was helpless but to lean into as his eyes drifted closed. 

"This is a terrible idea," Flint whispered, and he sounded a great deal closer than he had been moments ago. 

"The worst," Silver quickly agreed as Flint's thumb nudged his lower lip. "But all the best ones are." 

Flint let out an exasperated huff against Silver’s mouth. "That makes no fucking sense," he breathed, then covered Silver’s mouth in a searching kiss. 

"Exactly, but--" Silver mumbled against him. 

"You can shut up now." The next kiss was much deeper, and Flint licked any following words right off Silver’s lips. 

Flint tasted naturally of rum, but also of the ocean, not salty but somehow wild, windswept. Until that moment when Silver met Flint’s tongue with his own he had not thought someone could taste windswept. But he also hadn't thought Flint would ever have looked at him with longing or kissed him like he was necessary. 

"But why now?" he asked as Flint ran his lips along Silver’s throat, sliding down to insinuate one thigh between Silver’s. 

"Why not now?" Flint sounded annoyed as he set his teeth against Silver’s collarbone. 

"Well let's be honest, you could have had me anytime you--" 

Flint dropped his forehead on Silver’s breastbone. "Jesus christ. Do you want me to stop?"

Silver hummed, rocking up into Flint’s thigh. "Not even a little bit." 

"Thank fuck." 

"Only--" 

Flint sat up, throwing his hands in exasperation. 

"Maybe just, over there, I was thinking." He pointed backwards over his head, toward the shadowed side of the hillock, away from sight. 

Flint looked where Silver was pointing, then glanced over at the crew where they still danced. Without another word he hauled Silver up and they ducked behind the hill. Silver found himself pinned by the hips to the sand as Flint crouched over him, and he knew he was getting sand in his hair but he didn't care because Flint had wrapped his fist in Silver’s curls to hold him down for a kiss. 

Silver got a hand between their bodies and mapped out Flint's erection, marveling that he could feel such a perfect outline even through his thick breeches. Flint groaned like he'd been shot and bucked into Silver’s hand, and Silver felt like the most powerful man in the world, to have brought Captain Flint to this point with only a few kisses. He himself was not far behind, especially when Flint rocked against Silver in a slow roll that had him babbling nonsensical sounds. 

As much as he loved the way the stars glowed above Flint’s silhouette, Silver had never felt terribly comfortable relinquishing this much control over anything in his life, so he gave a great shove and flipped Flint back on the sand. Flint’s expression was utterly incredulous but also nearly incendiary with want, which Silver decided to make a note of for later. If there turned out to be a later.

“Honestly, Captain, don’t look so put out. We’ll all get ours in the end.” He straddled Flint’s hips and began to work his breeches open. Flint looked as though he’d forgotten what to do with his hands, as they hovered vaguely in the air around Silver’s waist.

Flint’s loud groan, when Silver wrapped a firm hand around his cock, was drowned out by a chorus of soused voices singing, "And good-bye, fare you well, all you ladies of town / We've left you enough for to buy a silk gown." And Silver’s shout when Flint reciprocated was covered by a girl's ringing, joyful laughter. 

"Doesn't feel like such a bad idea now, does it?" Silver asked, gasping against Flint’s mouth, then he pressed their foreheads together as they stroked each other like eager boys in a hayloft. 

Silver sat up and rolled his hips into Flint’s fist. Flint reached up with his other hand to touch Silver’s collarbone, shoving his shirt open as though it offended him. 

"If we had world enough and time, I'd open you up and have you ride me until you couldn't remember your own name," Flint whispered, and it sounded more like a prayer than a lewd suggestion. 

Little ripples started to grow around Silver’s heart and radiate outwards. "Then let us roll all our strength and all our sweetness up into one ball, and take our pleasures as they come." 

It wasn't immediately clear whether Flint's grip tightened and he flung his head back onto the sand in abandon because Silver knew how to quote poetry back to him, or if it came purely from some other baser feeling, but Silver liked to think it was the former. 

"Silver," Flint groaned, hooking him by the neck and drawing him forward to catch his eye. "I think you're the best bad idea I ever had." 

Silver couldn't help but drive Flint to his finish at that, drinking in the sight of the captain shuddering and collapsing like a billowing sail before him. Chest still heaving, he returned the favor for Silver, who came in milky spurts all over Flint's shirt and couldn't even bring himself to feel badly about it. 

He tipped sideways and stretched out on the sand beside Flint, rested his head on Flint’s chest and listened to his heartbeat slowing. He felt the cool night air on his naked skin and did a half hearted job of closing his trousers. After another minute he did the same for Flint, who seemed amused at his efforts. 

"Do we have anywhere to be right now?" Silver asked on a yawn. 

"We have until dawn," Flint replied, a pleasant rumble beneath Silver’s ear. 

"Excellent," Silver mumbled. Flint gave a huge sigh but didn't shove Silver away, and after a moment his hand came up to stroke Silver’s hair. Silver had a brief thought to protest, as he was not a cat, but then it felt so good he decided to let Flint indulge himself. 

~*~

When Silver next opened his eyes the dawn was spreading with light fingers over the eastern horizon, and most of the world still clung to the blue-gray hue of night. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair, scattering sand. Flint was somehow, miraculously, still asleep beside him, though Silver was certain that wouldn't last long. 

Nassau was a dull gleam in the distance, her street lights having burned low in the night. Silver stood and surveyed the beach, which was dotted with the last gasps of the bonfires, the glow of coals and trails of smoke. It was empty of people, quiet except for the rushing bellow of the sea, ever present like breathing. 

Flint got to his feet next to Silver, stretching the kinks out of his neck and shoulders. His eyes were wary and watchful, but there was a quietude in his body that Silver had honestly never seen in him before. The dawn light painted the freckles on his face and shoulders darker, and Silver wanted to press his tongue to them. 

Silver took a deep breath and gathered the courage that had come so easily the night before, and reached out to straighten Flint's shirt collar. Just the barest hint of a smile appeared on Flint's mouth, and it felt like a great victory to Silver. For just a moment they could have been the only two people in the world. 

"See? Freedom." Silver grinned. 

Flint mimicked Silver’s motion, straightening his collar with a smirk and then sliding his hands back to tangle in Silver’s hair. 

"World enough and time?" Silver asked hopefully. 

Flint kissed him.


End file.
